The Family Buisness
by KatherinaLyra
Summary: As a Grim Reaper, it was one of the first things Draco had learned. Never become attached to a soul because they will always move on ... What if Dea took his life for his insolence? I mean sure they were close but the woman was Death.
1. Meeting at The Crossroads

Meeting at The Crossroads.

Abraxas was having a shit day, there was no other way to put it. Malfoy enterprises was in debt. About £10,000 in debt and his wife Celeste was moaning about not having enough money for shoes. Shoes were more important to her then her husbands sanity. He apparated to a dingy side street somewhere in muggle London. No chance of being recognised here. Sure he'd still be noticed, after all he was a Malfoy. The platinum hair and strong bone structure screams for attention. However here no one would approach him about his failing company. Or about the gossip columns in the paper. Celeste wasn't even hiding her affairs now, being photographed with men out in the open. It pissed him off and crushed him in equal measures.

He shuffled down the dark cobbled alleyway. The old crooked houses reached up to the sky. The roofs disintegrated with age giving up their goal. Sagging back inwards towards the cobbled floor. The street so dilapidated and unstable with one loud shout it would crumble in a top of him. Leaving him how he felt at that moment, alone and broken. There was one flickering lamp post standing at the end of the street. Mist floating around obscuring it from view and making it look more faded and lost then it was. As he reached the lamp post he stopped to look up and admire it. It had strong elegant metal with swirls of detail and the old lanterns glass smashed and missing. The black paint coating it cracked and peeling away. He sighed and reached up, picking of a piece of peeling paint and chucking it to the ground with a flick of his hand. Everything around him fell apart.

He heard drunken yelling and looked up ahead of him. A group of young men fell out of one of the old buildings doorways. The windows omitting a soft glow, cigarette smoke rolling out of the doorway after them. A misty hand bidding them goodbye. A soft creaking sound echoed down the alley towards him and he noticed the old wooden swinging sign. The metal bar holding it up barely hanging on the buildings wall. The faded black paint said, "The Olde Crossroad". The words written in curving font with a large black cross underneath it. Abraxas drawled in a breath and walked towards the establishment. It was eerily silent down the rest of the street. The only sound his black leather brogues clacking against the worn cobbles. He reached the front of the pub, the windows blocked by smoke and condensation his only view in was the still open doorway. The wooden door rotting away, barely hanging on to its hinges. Inside amongst the smoke he could work out figures. People crouched crowding over tables and nursing their drinks. One lone woman sitting at the bar.

He stood in the doorway and watched her. She was leaning lazily with one elbow on the bar, her face held into the curve of her hand. She was only wearing a small black dress, obviously expensive fabric because of the way it clung to her. Her ankles crossed with her black high heels dangling from the bar stool. He knew from one look at her she was the type of woman his wife would tear apart just from jealousy. He found it odd that with a pub crowded of men she was sitting at the bar alone. Not even being approached. He scanned the room and the men seemed to shun her, not even making eye contact. Almost like they were afraid to look at her. He chuckled to himself, he knew how to deal with women other men were afraid off, after all his wife was one of them.

He straightened his tie and strolled forward. Pulling out the stool one away from the unapproachable woman. Abraxas glanced down the bar and waved a hand at the bar tender. She was an old wrinkly specimen, folding in on herself her spine curving outwards. Her eyes glazed over and grey hair matted into a bun on the top of her head. She wore grey frayed clothes that hung limply off her body. As if they were cobwebs growing around her. She shuffled up to Abraxas and stood up on a groaning wooden stool so she was eye level to him. "what will it be wayward man?" she rasped out, spittle flying from her lips. He grimaced and leaned back from her protruding face, putting some distance from his porcelain skin and her warty nose. Abraxas sniffed and smoothed down the lapels of his jacket. "A glass of your strongest liquor will have to do." He drawled as he opened his wallet and slid some muggle money across the bar so as not to touch her hands. She gave him a glare like she could see straight into his soul. She already called him wayward, knew he didn't belong here, what else could she see? He didn't want to find out and abruptly broke eye contact with the ruin of a woman. She took the money and shoved it into a box beneath the bar. She then grabbed an old dusty bottle from a bottom shelf and slammed it down in front of him with a glass. It was so dirty it had some sort of dead shrivelled insect lying in the bottom of it. As the old woman hobbled away to the other side of the bar Abraxas subtly waved his hand over the glass. He scourgified it and removing the dead insect. Happy with his now clean glassware he filled it to the brim with the alcohol that had been given to him.

"Tough day at the office?" A lilting voice called from the right of him. He jumped at the voice, he wasn't expecting the unapproachable woman to speak to him. He turned towards her, taking in her features now he could see the front of her. She was terrifyingly beautiful. Long black hair curled and pinned to the back of her head, a couple of spirals escaping and stroking down her long elegant neck. Her eyes were sharp and angled, so dark, almost black. He could get lost in them and never return if he stared too long, her top lip was thin with the bottom one full and pouty. Her skin dark, deep and beautiful. The two strangers were stark opposites sitting near each other, for as pale and porcelain as Abraxas was the woman was dark and mysterious. She was elegant yet he felt he should not turn his back on her, for fear of what she would do. He glanced down and saw her glass was just as full as his. Abraxas cleared his throat, "Yes, i think tough would be a light way to describe it. How about you, drowning your stress or sorrow?" She chuckled at that, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear and frowning, her delicate eyebrows drawing together.

"A bit of both I think". She stretched out a hand glancing down at a ring on her left hand. Abraxas looked at the ring and sighed, "ah marriage troubles, well I understand that." She nodded in reply and took a sip of her drink, "Well technically not married, just married to my job. People seem to think of me as this evil overlord when really I'm just there in peoples most dire moments. It does become draining, being hated." Her face fell as she looked towards the ground her shoulders sagging with grief. Abraxas felt his heart twinge for the woman. He got up and moved to the stool next to her putting a hand over hers, he looked straight into her eyes, excepting the darkness he felt there, "I know how you feel. My wife hates me, my business associates despise me. It's lonely. And if your going to be hated I don't think its something to go through alone." She suddenly sat up, an evil grin spreading across her sinful lips. Her black eyes flashing at his. "Your right Abraxas Malfoy i don't think I should." She suddenly grabbed his hand with both of hers pulling in towards her chest. Abraxas stuttered, shocked. "how..how do you know my name?". She opened one of the hands that clasped over his turning it upwards, palm showing. He saw his name in script writing, curving across her palm, a deep red like someone had carved it in with a knife. "Your name is one of the many that has appeared on my palm Abraxas, however I feel you make be worth keeping around." Abraxas felt a tugging feeling in his stomach and watched as the pub around him spun, disappearing as his whole world turned to black.

Abraxas woke in a black leather chair facing a desk, not unlike the one he had in his own office. He frowned and took in the room around him. It was very, very dark. Black walls, dark wooden flooring and a large deep mahogany desk. The only source of light coming from the fireplace and overhead chandelier. He turned back to face the desk and jumped as he saw the unapproachable woman . She was sitting there in a black shirt and black pencil skirt. A business version of the silky black dress she was wearing in the pub. She leaned back in her chair and lit a long black cigarette.

"I don't normally make a point of talking to mortals Abraxas but something you said to me struck a chord." Abraxas snorted affronted. "I am not some mere mortal, woman I am a wizard." He pronounced proudly. The woman chuckled, eyes twinkling at him. "I find you entertaining Abraxas I would like to offer you a deal, a business contract if you like." Abraxas nodded to her, taking one of her cigarettes off the desk and lighting it for himself. "I would like you to do part of my job for me, that way I can sit at my desk and enjoy the paper work without the messiness of having to actually deal with...people." She spat out the last word as though it offended her. "In exchange" she carried on "I will make sure you are always financially stable and live a long happy life."

Abraxas chuckled humouring her, "So in exchange for this very long happy life what will i have to do for these people." The woman took a long drag from her cigarette and said simply, "you will just have to collect their souls when they die and help them move onto their next journey." Abraxas choked on the inhale of his cigarette, doubling over coughing. "wh..what?!" he stammered. She stood up and leaned over the desk, offering him a hand to shake, her lips tilting upwards in humour.

"The names Dea, short for Death." She smirked as Abraxas sat there dumbfounded, not moving to reach for her hand. Dea shrugged and fell dramatically back into her chair. "My job is essentially to be there when people die and take them to wherever they're moving onto next. Sometimes its straight into another body to be born again, sometimes its up to the big guy. Speaking of the big guy he's the one who gave me this ring, the ring has the power to carve a persons name into my palm, when a name appears i find that person and go and collect their soul. Simple, really." She spoke very quickly, practised, all while inspecting her nails. Abraxas regained his composure, his curiosity piquing, "So who's the big guy? God, Merlin?". Dea chuckled and spun around in her chair, where a small table with a bottle and two glasses appeared out of thin air. She spoke calmly, pouring two drinks while she did, "Oh trust me you do not want to know who the big guy is. Maybe when your family gains my trust ill let you in on the little secret, but until then I'm afraid you'll have to be ignorant." She passed the now full glass over to Abraxas, he gratefully took it and drank down a large gulp. "What does my family have to do with this?" He asked, dreading the answer. Dea sipped her drink and stared straight into his eyes. "If you agree to this contract, you will be my best friend, my partner in crime, my confidant. You will reap souls for me for the rest of your life and when it is finally your time to pass your first born will take your place. And so it will go on. Your family will never be poor, will always be happy and the first born will always live a long life and I will never be without a friend. It works out both ways i think." Abraxas closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, a sudden thought occurred to him. His eyes snapped open and he leaned forward. "My name was on your palm." He whispered, more to himself then to Dea. Dea leaned forward and took his hand in hers and spoke softly, "You were supposed to die in that horrid place, it was why I was there. Your wife had paid one of the low lifers to stab you in the alley when you left." Dea sighed "I'm not supposed to meddle in mortal life like this. But if you sign this contract you will be mine, you will die when it is right, when your old in bed surrounded by family. However if you decide not to sign, I will have to drop you back to that place and let fate take its course." Abraxas nodded solemnly. "And what of my dear wife?" he asked sarcastically, taking another drink. Dea smirked sliding across a contract and a quill, "She will get whats coming to her." Abraxas smirked back at his new friend Death and picked up the quill, "To a long happy life…"


	2. Jammie Dodgers and Dolphins

Jammie Dodgers and Dolphins

Being a Healer was not Draco Malfoy's first choice of profession. He disliked people and preferred to be in the company of few, very similar to Dea. However he soon realised after the expansion of St Mungos most of the souls he had to collect ended up taking him there. Theres only so many excuses you can come up with to wonder around a hospital without becoming creepy. So eventually he made the decision to become a Healer. It had been six years since his training and he was now the head trauma surgeon. Turns out being in a war as a teenager trains you well to deal with tragedies. After the war his life changed dramatically, his father died in Azkaban and when he arrived home that day he found Death sitting on his bed with a bottle of champagne and a big banner saying, "Congratulations on your new job!". It took a lot of persuading for Draco to believe Dea. But after he put on the ring, the black suit and collected his first soul he never questioned her again. Draco and Dea formed a close friendship over the years, she always said how he reminded her off his great, great grandfather Abraxas. Apparently her first and favourite of the Malfoy's, she didn't appreciate Lucius as much. Or in Dea's words, "he was an arrogant, spineless gnome and I'm glad he's finally gone."

They met monthly on the 13th. Mainly so Dea could groan about immortality and paperwork. And so Draco could moan about the board of directors who are trying to fire him for his lack of people skills. Ironically if he didn't have such skill in saving peoples lives he would have been kicked out of the hospital in his first week. Draco sat in his office and looked at the calendar frowning, sipping his coffee. It was the 13th already and he'd only taken three souls this month. That was not good. When there were little souls to collect it was fates way of telling you there's a big one coming. A messy one. A heartbreaking one. A small child, or a new mother, a car crash, an explosion. If he collected a soul daily it calmed him, it meant that everything was in balance. People dying in their sleep, people dying on the surgery table, people being hit by a car. These were all mundane ways to die that happened daily, but if the mundane deaths weren't happening, well that just meant he was in for a shit day.

Draco exited his office and strolled into the trauma centre, dropping his coffee in the bin and shrugging on his black jacket on the way. He received a few nods from fellow doctors. Never a friendly smile or a chat, he was a Malfoy after all.

"HEY YOUR ROYAL PALENESS!" Draco sighed and turned around, spotting Pansy running down the hall in her bright pink scrubs. If someone had told him at Hogwarts that Pansy Parkinson would be a midwife he would have laughed in their face and told them to go see Pomphfrey. But watching her in action you can't deny that Pansy can get those babies out faster then any other. Probably the fact that the mothers are just terrified of not pushing when their told too. Pansy screeched to a halt in front of Draco sticking her finger up and prodding him in his chest, "YOU!" she screeched. Draco rolled his eyes and removed Pansy's finger from his chest with a disdainful sneer. "I am right here Pansy no need to shout, your mother would turn in her grave to hear you be so un lady like." Pansy snorted and punched him in his side, "i am shouting because I just went to my locker and guess whats missing... all my Jammie dodgers... you wouldn't know anything about that would you Draco? Hm?" Draco opened his mouth to reply but then heard the tinkling of the trauma bell. It rang through the hallways, echoing down as he heard the soft thud of running footsteps and doctors flying down the hallway. Draco grinned, "Sorry Pants gotta run!" He turned and ran down the hallway towards the heart of the trauma unit, laughing as Pansy shouted after him. "YOU KNOW I HATE THAT NICKNAME, AND YOU OWE ME A PACK OF JAMMY DODGERS YOU BASTARD!"

Draco skidded into the main trauma room as an ambulance crew floated someone in on a gurney. One of the crew sat over the top of the body still administering CPR. He jogged towards them and made eye contact with the man administering CPR, "Jane doe, late 20s, stabbed in muggle London eight minutes ago." The man paused for a second to take a deep breath, "Two stab wounds in the chest, one in the stomach, three in the hands and two in the arms. Looks like she put up a fight to defend herself. We lost her once in the ambulance, have been doing CPR since. She seems to be holding on. We tried CPR charm but it wasn't working quick enough." Draco nodded as he followed them into trauma room one, digesting all the information. His brain kicked into overdrive as he started spouting off orders. "Someone get chief of general to meet me in surgery room 12, we need plastics to see what we can do about these stab wounds." He turned rapidly and spotted one of the interns, "YOU take over CPR now!" The intern shuffled forward and jumped onto the gurney and started pushing the jane doe's chest up and down. That's when he realised his palm was burning. He sighed and calmed himself before looking down. If this name was the Jane Doe he had in front of him she wasn't going to make it to the operating table. He looked at his palm and in the red script he saw the words "Hermione Granger". The world span. For the first time in his professional life he panicked. "No ,no, no, it can't be." He muttered under his breath. He pushed forward to the head of jane doe and brushed back her hair. Draco felt his breath knocked out of him and his eyes blacked out for a split second. It was her. Hermione Granger. Lying in front of him covered in blood and pale from pain. His brain flashed back to Malfoy Manor. To the last time she was on the floor in front of him bleeding. To aunt Bella cackling over her. He didn't do anything. He didn't help her.

Draco stumbled back to the edge of the room, looking from his palm to her face. Her face to his palm. He couldn't do it. He couldn't take her. Not yet. It wasn't fair. He lurched forward and started firing off orders. "I WANT HER IN THAT SURGERY ROOM NOW, FUCKING RUN WITH HER DO IT! GET SOME MORE POTIONS GET EVERYTHING WE COULD NEED WE ARE NOT LETTING HER DIE ON US!" The nameless intern looked up in shock at the ordinarily calm and controlled Head of Trauma. "Do you know her?" he asked, confused as too why Draco was showing so much emotion. Draco clenched his fists and glared down at the boy. "That is Hermione fucking Granger, war heroine and best friend of the golden boy! So stop asking inane questions and get her to that fucking surgery room." Draco ground out between clenched teeth. Everyone immediately jumped into action. As Hermione was sped out of the trauma unit Draco turned to address the still and silent unit. Every doctor and patient were stood staring at the doors one part of the golden trio had disappeared through. Exasperated Draco turned and flung the doors open to follow, as he left he called to the shocked unit. "AND SOMEONE CALL FUCKING POTTER."

It had been a long unforgiving surgery. Nine hours and he had nearly lost her six times. One time her soul even started to appear in front of him, which he quickly chose to ignore. But he did it, she was alive. He sat in the small hospital room by the side of the bed, the only sound the beeping of the heart monitor. She looked different, older. But he supposed she would, it had been easily six years since they last saw each other at the battle of Hogwarts. If he closed his eyes he could be there now, screaming Potter's name and running towards him with Potter's wand. Hermione was standing behind Potter with the rest of the order. The look of surprise on her face when he ran to help her side would have been comical if it wasn't such a dire moment. He chuckled coming back to the present and looking at the Hermione laying in front of him. She was tanned now, her body adorned with freckles and her wild mane cut shoulder length, now soft curls. She was almost pretty. Not beautiful in the sense Pansy was, all cheekbones and striking eyes. But Draco had to admit she was pleasant to look at. He shook his head and put his face in his hands, now he knew he was really tired. Having thoughts like that about a girl you've seen tortured should not be allowed.

He shook his head slightly to clear it and thought about the most pressing matter at hand. Which was ironically his hand. Hermione Grangers name was still engraved there. However instead of the normal deep scar red, it had turned black. Like a lovers tattoo permanently engraved in skin. He had never done this before, never disobeyed the ring and from the diaries his ancestors kept neither had they. What would happen to him now, how would Dea react? She would probably swear and call him a fool for letting emotions effect his job. As a Grim Reaper it was one of the first things he learnt. Never become attached to a soul because they will always move on. It was now 7pm, he had four hours before he had to meet Dea. His stressful thoughts were abruptly put to a halt as the door to the room flung open. There standing in the doorway was Wonder boy and Weasel, a heavily pregnant Weaselette too. Must be Potters spawn. Draco sighed deeply and stood up to leave the room, the group crowding the doorway stepped back in shock when they saw him. Staring, mouths open like goldfish. He cleared his throat as he stopped in front of them. "The surgery was long and we did loose her a couple of times, but she seems to be stable now. Were hoping she will recover well and have minimal scarring." He said without emotion. The Weaselette gasped, eyes watering as she clung to Potter and her brother glared at Draco. As if he was the one who caused her harm instead of saving her life. Draco rolled his eyes and ignored them both, looking straight to Potter. Potter nodded and asked, "It was you who operated on her? Saved her life?". Draco didn't really feel like striking up a conversation so just tightly nodded at the speckled man. Then Potter did something that shocked him. That Draco really wasn't expecting, Potter put out his hand. As if he wanted Draco to shake it... his hand hung in the air for an awkward moment before Draco finally realised what was happening. Draco shook Potters hand tight and then proceeded to exit the room. His jacket swishing in a way that would have made his god father proud.

Draco collapsed in his office chair, cradling his coffee in his hands as if it was some kind of miracle cure. Three hours before he had to face Dea. What if saving Hermione's life broke the contract? what if Dea took his life for his insolence? I mean sure they were close but the woman was Death. Draco winced as a sharp pain hit his palm. He sighed and looked down, Hermione's name was still there in the black ink but further down his palm a new name appeared. In fresh red he saw "Sally Brown". At least it was no one he knew. He clenched his hand, thought of the name and closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again he was standing in another part of the hospital. Just outside the doors to the children's ward. "Fuck." He muttered. This really was a shit day. Draco entered the ward and slowly made his way down the corridor, looking at the names written on all the doors. He spotted the name on the third door down. Sally Brown. Written in bubble writing with a sun sticker on one side and an animated dolphin drawing pinned to the other. Through the little window in the door he could see a young girl in the bed. Frail and all skin and bones, the top of her head wrapped in a pretty blue fabric. He let his eyes wonder to the potion vials to the side of the bed and read the labels. Cancer. They were all treatments for cancer. "Dammit" He swore under his breath. All the wonders of magic and they still hadn't found a way to beat it. He looked at the little girl again and let his eyes drift to the figures leaning over the side of the bed, grasping their little girls hands. The parents were crying and praying.

Children were always hard, always so unfair. But sick children, fuck it was the hardest part of the job. Suddenly the parents crying grew to sobbing as he saw the mother fling her body over her daughters. Draco took a deep, shaking breath and turned to his left where a small shimmering form stood, looking around. She appeared before him, curly blonde hair, large green eyes and pink chubby cheeks. What she would have looked like in life if she wasn't sick. The little girl noticed Draco and looked up at him seeing the doctors badge on his jacket, "Why am I outside my room?" the girl frowned. Draco paused thinking of the politest way to say 'sorry kid your dead.' He shook his head, he really needed to work on being less of an arsehole. He dragged himself out of his inner monologue as Sally moved in front of him and looked through the doors window into her room. Seeing her parents crying over her body. Draco put his hand on her shoulder and the girl looked up at him, her eyes watering, "I'm dead aren't I?" Sally asked, her voice small and scratchy. Draco crouched down to her level, smiling kindly at her, "Youre a smart one Sally." He whispered too her. The little girl shuddered with a cry and launched herself into his arms. "I knew it. I knew it was going to happen. Dr Luna told me, she told me that when I die someone would be there for me and take me on my next adventure." Sally cried into his shoulder. Draco inwardly groaned, Dr Luna Lovegood, the bain of his life. She worked the cancer ward and still managed to make everyone smile and give of a glow of 'I'm magic and especially serene and I help everyone' . She always gave him this knowing stare, as if she knew what he was and it creeped Draco out to no end. Draco forced a smile onto his face, "Yes Sally Dr Luna's right, I am here to take you on your next adventure." The little girl unravelled her arms from around his neck, no longer crying just sniffing and stepped back from him giving him an inquisitive look. "Do I have to go right now?" she asked a pleading tone in her voice. Draco huffed out a breath, "Well..." But he was cut off quickly as the little girl crossed her arms angrily, "But I never got to see the dolphins, mummy promised she'd take me and she never did!" she whined. Draco looked up at her door again examining the drawing of the dolphin jumping in and out of the sea. He looked down at his watch, two hours until he had too meet Dea. Sally stood strongly in front him, her arms still crossed and glaring at him. Oh well, he thought. The girl just died if she wants dolphins, she's getting fucking dolphins. Draco reached out his hand for her to take, "Come on then, lets go see the dolphins." Sally let out an over joyed squeal as she grabbed hold and Draco closed his eyes and thought of Florida.

They appeared on the beach just as the sun was going down. Hues of oranges and pinks painted across the sky and the sea calmly swishing in towards them. Out in the distance a group of dolphins jumped in and out of the water playing. Draco looked down at the little girl still clutching his hand, she was crying again. However she let the tears roll silently down her cheeks as her eyes grew wide taking in everything around her. The dusky pink light somehow made her look younger, more innocent, more heart breaking. Draco gripped her hand tighter.

"Don't be scared Sally, you'll be moving onto a brand new life. A longer one, hopefully a happier one." Draco said comfortingly as he looked out at the ocean.

"Im not crying 'cus I'm scared." Sally replied in a soft, serene voice. "Im crying 'cus nothing hurts anymore." Draco felt his chest constrict and his heart thud loudly in his chest. So unfair, it was all so fucking unfair. He turned and crouched in front of Sally again, wiping her tears from her cheeks, "Well I bet where your going now, nothing will ever hurt ever again". He stage whispered to her, Sally giggled and whispered loudly back, "i hope so too strange man." A bright light shined over them and Sally and Draco both looked to their right. Draco saw the blinding white doorway and smiled tightly taking Sally's hand one last time, "Its time for the next adventure kid." Sally grinned looking into the doorway. Everyone always saw something different. Some people saw their favourite place, some people saw an old lover, some people saw family. All Draco ever saw was the white light. He asked Sally the same question he asked everyone, "What do you see?". Sally gleamed up at him, "It's my Nana! She's waving at me! I think I should go now..." Draco nodded and watched the little girl run towards the doorway, she stopped just before she passed the threshold and turned and waved to Draco. Draco smiled and watched as she stepped through , the doorway vanishing taking the little girl with it.

Draco sat alone on the beach, the sun had now set and he watched the waves slowly reach in for him before running away under the moonlight. He sighed and stuffed a hand into his jacket pocket pulling out a pack of Jammie dodgers. He shoved one in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully over the obscenely shit day he had just had. The calming sound of the ocean and soft breeze was broken by the sudden boom of Blue Oyster Cult from his trouser pocket.

"All of times have come,

here but now there gone,

seasons don't fear the reaper,

nor do the wind, the sun or the rain."

Draco groaned loudly and dug the phone out of his pocket quickly answering it.

"I suppose you thought changing my ring tone would be hilarious." Draco moaned down the phone.

"I thought it was very tasteful actually. Get to the office Draco your late for our meeting and I hear you've had an eventful day." Dea dead panned in reply. She hung up straight away not giving Draco a chance to even reply. Draco swung himself up to his feet and pressed the number 1 speed dial on his phone. It went straight to voicemail. "Heyyy Pants, so if I'm not in work tomorrow I'm probably dead. Don't ask, long story, did a couple of things I shouldn't have. Anyway IF I do die could you drop by mine and feed snuffles. Thanks!". He hung up and shoved his phone back in his pocket. Closing his eyes and clenching his hand he thought of Death.


	3. Everything's Fine

**Everything's Fine**

Draco opened his eyes and groaned in disgust. Getting to deaths offices was always a frustrating task. The building stood gloomily on the outskirts of London with a large overgrown field spreading out behind it. The office block didn't look like anything from the outside. It was an old run down building with the bricks crumbling and the windows smashed. Any passerby would never think to enter for fear it would collapse on top of them. The apparition point to get to into the building was unfortunately in the assault course of weeds that had grown in the field behind it. The grass and weeds stood so tall that even if someone was stood 10 feet from you they couldn't see you appear. Draco shook his foot and glared at the ground. He had landed in a puddle. Of course, he had. As he fought his way through the weeds to the back door of the building his sense of dread grew with every step. He went through the facts in his head. Yes, Hermione was alive. Yes, she was supposed to be dead, yes no one else had ever saved a life instead of taking it. Yes, he was probably going to be fired, yes he was probably going to be killed for it. He reached the back door and pulled it open. If you pushed the door it would swing forward to reveal what the building looked like on the outside, a broken mess. But by pulling the door outwards it opened the doorway to what the building really was.

Deaths headquarters were like any other high-end office building. The first floor consisted of the reception area where Deaths receptionist Peter was waiting to greet him. As he always was.

"So someone had a busy day.." Peter sang as he handed Draco a coffee. Draco sighed and took a sip. "So everyone knows?" he asked. Peter nodded as he shuffled some paperwork around on his desk, "oh yes, the boss isn't happy Draco. Saving lives is not your job." Draco nodded in agreement, " but this one was different Peter. I couldn't take her, its personal." Peter took a seat behind his desk and looked up at Draco searchingly. "Draco in dealing with death it is always personal. Go on up she's waiting for you." Draco gave Peter back his coffee cup and stood in front of the elevator. The elevator pinged as the doors opened and Rick, the grim reaper stationed in Liverpool, exited. Rick sighed and shook his head giving Draco a disappointed glance as he walked past. Peter was right, everyone knew. "I'm fine" Draco whispered as he entered the lift. As the doors closed and the elevator rose so did Draco's heartbeat. He started sweating as the number of floors ticked away on the little screen getting closer and closer to floor 66. "I'm fine." He whispered to himself again as he passed floor 60. The elevator pinged again as the doors opened to floor 66. He stepped out and walked past the cubicles housing Deaths assistants. Each one stopped what they were doing to watch him as he walked by. The phrase dead man walking entered Draco's mind. As he walked by he tried to smile at some of them, repeating to them over and over, "I'm fine, everything's fine." He reached the entrance to Dea's office, the big wooden doors staring down at him. He stopped to admire them, buying himself some time. He never took much notice of them before. But they were ornate and beautiful with carvings and large metal knockers. The rumours around the offices were that Dea stole them from a church in Jerusalem. There was even a rumour that a king fell in love with her and gifted them to her thousands of years ago. Draco would bet on the first one, Dea loved to steal things. Draco took a deep, maybe final breath, and pushed one of the heavy doors open, entering Deaths office.

Dea sat behind the big oak desk, the fire crackling and spitting across from her. Probably a reflection of her mood. She sat rifling through the towers of paperwork on her desk. So occupied and stressed she hadn't even heard Draco enter. Draco cleared his throat, "Dea I…"

Dea stood and sharply interrupted him. "So i heard a distressing rumour today. A rumour that my favourite grim reaper saved a soul today, instead of taking it. Of course, I dismissed it because you wouldn't do that to me would you Draco?" Draco stuttered as he moved closer to her trying to explain. But Dea cut him off again. She moved around her desk and gestured towards it, "but then, my dear Draco, I come into my office to find this MOUNTAIN of paperwork. I even received a visit from the big guy and you know how I hate talking to him! So please explain to me how you let this shit storm happen?!"

Draco relaxed when he realised he was still alive, she hadn't slain him down on the spot and that meant hope. Draco walked forward and sat in the chair opposite her desk, his shoulders slumped and his head fell in his hands. "I couldn't take her, she wasn't ready yet." He murmured his voice muffled by his hands covering his face. There was a moment of silence before Dea started yelling, "WASN'T READY YET? WHO DECIDES WHEN THE SOULS READY? YOU? NO DRACO MALFOY THAT IS NOT YOUR JOB THAT IS MINE! YOU CANNOT JUST UNDERMINE ME LIKE THIS! I HAVE KILLED PEOPLE FOR LESS THEN THIS!" The fire in the room popped and grew and Draco could feel the anger radiating off her, he had never seen Death so angry. He slowly raised his head out of his hands and looked at her. Darkness and sparks were radiating off her in waves. "what happens now?" he whispered, afraid of the answer. Dea took a deep breath and sat behind her desk composing herself. "What happens now Draco." she said between clenched teeth, "Is that I have a ridiculous amount paperwork to do. And you, you go back to work and be sure not to fuck up again." Draco leaned back in shock, "your not killing me?" Dea smiled slightly at that, "No Draco I'm not killing you. But the girl, she will die." Draco felt his body go cold at the words. "Please Dea. I can't let her die." He looked down at his clenched hands feeling defeated. Dea paused and watched Draco. She had never seen him like this, he looked almost guilty. As if the girl's death would be in his hands and that guilt was eating him up alive. Dea groaned and leaned back in her chair. "Draco I'm going, to be honest with you. The girl will die at some point, she is human. Her name is now carved into your palm until she does, she is yours to take. However, if you do not take her, if you save her again, the next day something else will try to kill her. It will be an endless cycle of you trying to stop her dying daily."

Draco leaned forward in thought, "but I could save her daily? Let her live a long life?" Dea frowned at the poor naive boy. "Yes, Draco you could. If you are willing to spend your life running after one girl to keep her from me then I won't stop you. But personally, I don't see why you would. What is so special about this soul Draco? Why can't you let her go?" Draco stood and just before he turned to leave he spoke with an honesty Death had never heard from him before. " Dea I didn't save her last time. I didn't help her when i could have and if i have to spend every day for the rest of my life saving hers, i will. Because she's the kind of soul that's worth saving."

As Draco left Deaths office he felt lighter. He let out a surprised laugh as he stepped out of the building and looked up at the moon. He was still alive and it was a shockingly beautiful feeling. He felt his phone vibrate and took it out, the screen lighting up the dark night. He had 23 voicemails from Pansy, he chuckled and speed dialled her. "Yes, Pansy I'm alive. No, no calm down I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Dea stood by her office window looking down at the poor naive boy. For her everything was not fine. The deep booming voice behind her was telling her that. "Death you have disobeyed me, the girl was supposed to die and the boy was supposed to take her. You have deviated from the plan. HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT ME! I have told you all living things are now under my control. This universe is now mine and I will do with it what I wish! Your God cannot save you now!" The voice and its owner disappeared in a cloud of black and Dea watched as Draco fought his way back through the weeds. "No my God cannot save me, but maybe someone else will."


End file.
